


daylight

by renjaune



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: + tags to add, Angst, Blood and Injury, Dreams and Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vampire Na Jaemin, jaemin and doyoung are siblings, minor dokun, renmin are children in the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 22:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjaune/pseuds/renjaune
Summary: Others say that a swarm of butterflies warns of an especially cruel winter to come.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	daylight

**Author's Note:**

> please read the tags! 
> 
> this was going to be part of an exchange but i couldn't make it work so i'm posting it now

It’s not the first time Jaemin takes this train, and it’s definitely not the first time Jaemin sees him, next to the railway track, maybe a bit closer than any mom would recommend. 

The boy is kneeling down, picking up flowers and holding them all in one hand creating a pretty bouquet Jaemin wonders who’s for. Maybe the boy has a girlfriend, or maybe they are for his mom. 

Jaemin wishes he could join the boy, make a friend, get a pretty bouquet for his mom that’s at home waiting for them. He doesn’t remember when was the last time she received flowers — after his dad went away, no flowers ever came to their door again. 

It was the night before the first day of primary school. Jaemin asked his mom to tell him a story to sleep, but his mom delegated the chore to his brother, asking him to tell Jaemin a kind one, to avoid him having nightmares again. 

Jaemin had been having nightmares every night for months — every single night he would wake up crying at 4:09 in the morning and move into his brother's bed, too scared to do anything else. And the topics would go from strangers stealing his stuff in the street, to his brother being taken away or, even worse, him arriving home after having to find his way back from school by himself and his mom just not being there, house empty with just a seven year old standing in the hallway, not knowing what to do, or who to call.

He didn't have anyone else other than his family. If they all disappeared, who would he call for help? 

Waking up was a relief, knowing he could wake up -sometimes even when he was asleep- and go to his brother's arms was the only source of tranquility he could find during the night.

So that night, Doyoung sat on the bed, next to him, and tucked him in as he did almost every night. He didn't need to, Jaemin swore he was old enough to tuck himself in with no help, but he wasn't going to lie and say he didn't like being taken care of by his  _ big-bro,  _ he wasn't going to push his older brother away.

Jaemin loved Doyoung, he had always had, and those were Doyoung's duties as an older brother after all: to take care of Jaemin, to pick him up from school and bring him food and care for him when nobody else was around to do it. And even if sometimes people were around, even if their mom was just in the next room, Doyoung would make sure Jaemin had eaten all his food, or that the younger had his jacket on, or that he was safe and happy. Doyoung was a good brother, Jaemin never doubted that. And that night, he was going to be extra sure of it.

Doyoung had always been a good story teller but that night, after tucking Jaemin in, he told Jaemin about a little guy that moved to the countryside and started a farm of his own — he built a giant house for him and painted it yellow. It was an odd color for a house, Jaemin knew that, he hadn't seen any houses painted yellow before, and it reminded him of the school bus all his friends took to get to school. He couldn't take the bus with them, but he always went there with his brother, which was pretty cool in itself as Doyoung had a cool car and let him listen to one -yes, only one- of his favorite songs on their way to school every morning.

The guy put orange curtains on every window, making the entire house look like the sun was shining on it, or maybe like a fruit salad, something like that. Maybe in there Jaemin's family would be able to live happily. He made a mental note to ask the guy if they could move in — Jaemin could do all the dishes every time, he had learnt how just a few weeks ago, and his dad could take care of the house, and his mom could make bedsheets that would match the curtains for everybody. 

With just a glance, this house had given Jaemin all the peace he hadn't been able to find for the last countless nights.

Doyoung described the plants this guy had grown on his front lawn and the animals he kept on the back, and Jaemin could feel every word — the feeling of being there, next to the street, looking at that house. It was wonderful. 

Jaemin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his nose was filled with the lemon scent coming from the white roses that abounded the front of the house — all aligned in a perfect symmetrical shape, Jaemin wondered if the owner would realize if he stole some to bring back home for his mom. They were all around the mailbox too, and as it seemed full, he thought of bringing the mail inside for the owner as an exchange for some of his flowers.

"Our friend might have a lot of friends", Jaemin said to his brother who had been standing behind him the entire time, "I'd love to receive this many letters _." _

He took them all in his small hands, ready to bring them to the door, making sure none fell and was left behind.

"Do you think he'll be home?," Jaemin asked Doyoung, but didn't get a reply. Jaemin turned around to an empty street — his brother, who was there seconds ago, wasn't there anymore.

The sun was shining all across the sparkly green land on the other side of the street, there weren't houses around and neither were cars; the heat coming from the asphalt was already getting through Jaemin's shoes and he knew it wouldn't take long for his skin to redden. It was the end of the summer already, but the heat wave had hit their town that week and Jaemin started to feel sweat dripping down his spine.

Being in such high temperature for that long had started to cloud his senses. Jaemin couldn't remember how they got there, but maybe a cab just dropped them off. He sometimes forgot stuff, but his mom had told him it was just a sign that he was growing up —  _ not everything is worth remembering,  _ she told him before tucking him in bed leaving a kiss on Jaemin's forehead one night.

Noises coming from the barn made Jaemin face the house again; he couldn't recognize what type of animals were the ones making noise all the way from there, but picturing small ducks running around and cows looking over them as their big-unrelated-siblings painted a smile on his young face. He definitely needed to ask their owner if he could go there and pet them.

And after giving his surroundings a look, using one of the envelopes as a shield from the sun to be able to see better, he stared at the tangerine looking door ten meters away from him — it wasn't the same tone coming through the windows, but it still matched somehow.

Assuming Doyoung had just gone ahead and entered the house, Jaemin closed the distance between the sidewalk and the front door. Leaving the roses behind he saw small butterflies flying around, tons of them — he didn't know what a bunch of butterflies were called, he remembered  _ a litter _ was many cats, but butterflies? He wasn't sure, maybe it was a litter or them too, he should ask Doyoung when he finds him.

Taking all the mail in one hand, he tried ringing the bell but it was too high up for him to reach it, so he knocked on the door instead and took a step back, in case someone looked through the peephole and couldn't see him. He was tall for his age, his dad said once that at Jaemin's age he was around ten centimeters shorter, but Jaemin didn't want to miss his chance and for the owner not to open the door.

He stood there for a minute, no response coming from inside the house, so he tried knocking again.  _ Maybe it's not loud enough,  _ he thought, looking around for something to step on to reach the bell,  _ this house is so big,  _ he piled up a few bricks that were behind some flowers, _ maybe they're in the back and can't hear me knocking. _

Unfortunately, nobody opened the door this time either. Jaemin stood there for a second, thinking of what to do. He couldn't get inside the house without invitation, but he couldn't stay out there in such heat. Maybe he could try getting in, if the door was unlocked, maybe the owner didn't live there anymore, that would explain the amount of mail accumulated on this guy's mail box.

So he did, he opened the door all the way and without taking a step ahead he took a look inside — a big hallway connected the front door to what looked like the back door —  _ that might be the way to the barn,  _ a smile was formed on Jaemin's lips. He couldn't see much more besides the fact that there was a staircase on one side of the hallway, and what seemed like a kitchen right next to the back door. What he could definitely smell was something being baked down there, something that seemed exactly like the honey cupcakes his mom used to bake for him many years ago. But his mom couldn't be there, could she? Jaemin had to take a second to think about it — him and Doyoung arrived in a cab and his mom wasn't with them, she was back at home, working. He remembered it all pretty well, did he?

"Hello?," Jaemin said, loudly, for whoever was in the kitchen to hear him, but the only thing inside the house was his echo greeting him back. 

He took a look at the envelopes, they were all in good shape, and didn't look old enough for the house to be abandoned. What could he do? He was unsure of what to do next, always used to having his brother by his side helping him out. Maybe Doyoung was right, maybe he was still too young to be going around by himself.

His mom's voice resonated inside his brain —  _ remember, honey, you're always welcome everywhere, it's in your genes,  _ she had told him before, but Jaemin was sure it was a matter of her love for him, not an actual fact.

"There's no way, I can't just get in," he said, voice low for his mom and only his mom to hear, giving up on finding his brother. Maybe he had to wait there for Doyoung to show up again and take him home, he could do that — Doyoung had forgotten about picking him up from school a few times before, but he always came around to find Jaemin, he always came back to his brother.

Jaemin sat on the floor. If he was going to wait, he was going to do it comfortably — he crossed his legs and fixed his shirt, the sweat already starting to dry as he was sheltered from the sun now. It was a strange feeling he couldn't comprehend, the house felt alive, like there were tons of people that lived there — the smell coming from the kitchen was still on his nose and he could swear he had heard music coming from what he assumed was the living room. How was nobody replying to his knocking, he didn't get it.

Jaemin wasn't sure how much time it had passed, he felt like he had been sitting there waiting for someone to come for hours and hours, and maybe he had. The sun wasn't as strong anymore and the sounds from the animals were lower and lower with every moment that passed. He tried knocking again a few times, rang the bell some more, but there were still no actual movements inside the house. The smell coming from the kitchen had almost dissipated completely too, only a memory of it remained on the tip of his nose.

There wasn't much else to do, he didn't know how to go back home by himself, and he couldn't get inside the house either. Jaemin gave up.

With surrendered shoulders and a soul to match, Jaemin finally took a proper look at the name in the mail in front of him: his dad's.

And as he was checking every letter to see if there were some other names, the feeling of people inside the house got stronger, loud noises coming from everywhere, every inch of this house resonating inside him.

Jaemin tried looking for the source of the noise, but he was afraid of seeing something he wasn't supposed to — his parents had always told him to be careful of what he looked at, that he was still too young to know what was going on around him, that he should take a step back every time he was afraid. And Jaemin was definitely afraid, so afraid he could cry and run to Doyoung in that exact moment, but his brother wasn't around, and they weren't in their room.

Maybe the best decision was to run away, run from that place that Jaemin wasn't sure if it was filled with ghosts or vampires — and at that point, he didn't know what would be worse. He stood up and started taking a few steps back.

Jaemin could feel the house wanted him, it wanted him to come inside to play, the feeling was familiar, but the now rotten smell coming from inside frightened him over the thought of any known person that could be calling him.

Taking steps back was difficult, and even more after being seated for so many hours. He made himself go backwards step by step, moving one feet after the other — Doyoung had taught him this method some time ago, when Jaemin ran scared to his arms Doyoung would make him take small breaths, and think of one thing at a time, taking the control back, owning his body and owning his mind in the process. But as soon as he tried controlling his breath, he passed by the roses and the butterflies — the roses were dripping red, darker than the wine his dad liked to drink, when moments ago they were the purest white they now looked like they were bleeding, and the butterflies weren't flying properly anymore, they were running into each other and falling to the floor.

Another useful tip Doyoung had given Jaemin was to look away from the frightening thing, so that's what he tried to do: to avoid seeing how much pain he was causing by stepping on the butterflies that had fallen on the floor, he tired looking ahead — all the windows were closed, but the curtains seemed to have been teared up, he scanned all the windows in a heartbeat and none of them seemed okay.

It all got worse when in the first floor balcony, in the middle of the house, Jaemin saw him.

"Daddy?," Jaemin called him, his young voice echoing through the night.

His dad was standing there looking straight to Jaemin, hand extended asking him to come up, but the look in his face wasn't right — yes, all vampires were a bit pale, even Jaemin was, but his dad looked television dead, his face was expressionless and his clothes looked worse than the curtains; he was wearing his favorite beige t-shirt and was now ripped to pieces, letting Jaemin see some scratches in his dad's chest and arms. If what was inside did that to his dad, what would it do to him, he didn't know how to fight yet.

But in that moment, right as Jaemin was about to reach the sidewalk, right when he was just a few steps from being in safe grounds, his dad smiled. He smiled and blood came out of his mouth, leaving his clothes tinted red. He was still looking at Jaemin who was now frozen there, unable to take any more steps back, unable to make it.

Jaemin wanted to run away but towards his dad at the same time — his dad looked like he needed help, and maybe Jaemin could climb the front of the house from the outside and help his dad out. He wished Doyoung was there, he needed his older brother to help him out, his legs were too short and his arms weren't strong enough to climb it by himself, and he was too scared to do anything. Maybe he was a baby after all, maybe all the mocking his brother did and all the things he said to Jaemin were right. He definitely was a baby and he needed his mom.

Tears started coming down Jaemin's cheeks and he was still incapable of looking away — he was paralyzed looking at the picture in front of him, not even the worst of the horror movies he used to watch with Doyoung made him feel this way.

"I... daddy, I'm sorry," Jaemin whispered, scared of someone other than his dad hearing him.

His dad was still holding out his hand for Jaemin when something came from behind him and in a matter of seconds sucked him inside the house. Jaemin felt his heart being ripped from his ribcage as his dad closed his hand and disappeared inside the house, taking with him every noise that was taking him aback.

The world was completely silent now.

Jaemin ran the small distance that was separating him from the sidewalk, he didn't know where he was taking the strength to run that fast from. He was scared, he had never been as scared before, never in his thousands of nightmares before he had had to go through something this dark. He finally reached the sidewalk and let himself fall to the floor, he brought his knees to his chest and hugged them as tight as he could, hiding his head between them and covered his ears. He tried screaming, he tried asking for help, he tried to do anything but his body stayed there, it wasn't his anymore, it was left there for it to be claimed.

Jaemin went to school the day after that nightmare and when he came back his dad wasn't home. He didn't tell anyone about it, it was probably just a coincidence. But time started to go by, and his mom's flowers started to go bad without being replaced, and he stopped sleeping in fear of dreaming something that would now make his mom or his brother go away. He could deal with no sleeping, he had seen his brother avoiding sleep for months, it was in their genes.

He tried doing some research at the school library on how to keep the flowers alive, he ran to his house and cut their stems and put them in clear water but they still kept dying.

"What are you doing?," Doyoung interrupted him on the third day of trying.

"You scared me," Jaemin replied instead, "it's a school project."

Yes, he lied, he had been lying ever since that night, ever since Doyoung woke him up from the nightmare and cradled him in his arms, placing a kiss on his forehead Jaemin could swear lasted at least half an hour.

"Oh, yeah?," his older brother took a step closer to check what he was doing, "what subject?"

Jaemin's hands were too small to handle the scissor he had found in his mom's drawer, but he was using both and handling the situation quite well. He needed to get this done.

"You are going to get hurt, let me help you," Doyoung added when Jaemin didn't reply to his question, trying to take the scissors to finish his work.

"No!," Jaemin screamed, taking the scissors away and hiding them behind him, "I have to do this."

"Bro, c'mon, it's just a project, they won't know who cut them, they..."

But the words stopped when Doyoung saw the tears forming on Jaemin's eyes — he knew his little brother way too much, he could see something was wrong, and his eyes let Jaemin know that.

"Baby," Doyoung kneeled before Jaemin and hugged him taking the scissors away in the process, "what's going on?"

Jaemin wanted to cry and scream and fight and ten other things, but none of them were possible when his brother was holding him tightly in his arms.

"I just," Jaemin muttered, his head hiding on the crook of Doyoung's neck that was now wet from his tears, "I.. I need to keep them alive for him to come back." 

Jaemin sees this little guy for less than a second every time. The train goes way too fast for his untrained eyes to catch him any longer. He wants to know more about him but he can’t — after all the guy’s under the sun, it shines on his honey-like skin like it’s the easiest thing. And it is, he knows being under the sun is the normal thing to do at eleven years old, at least when you’re not about to become a full vampire. 

Jaemin could never experience it again. He takes a few steps back, hands open looking to reach something that would bring him some comfort, even if this train car is already a safe place. 

After looking outside, eyes wide open trying to capture everything within his grasp, his eyes have a hard time adapting to the change of light. But he knows he is okay, he always is when his older brother is beside him, holding his hand every time he notices something’s off. 

Hiding in the dark of the train car Jaemin wonders how it must feel: being able to do everything he wants at day-time, being able to pick some flowers, being able to run to the store around the corner for some sweets, being able to bike to his friend's place without worrying about what time of the day it is. He wishes he could, but he can't, and it’s something he had to be okay with since the very moment he was born.

“We are almost there,” Doyoung’s boyfriend tells Jaemin, bringing him back to reality, “zip up your coat, it’s cold outside.”

Jaemin obeys, like always, and puts the collar of his coat up to make sure everything is covered. It’s not a big deal, the train station they’re getting off at is underground but the wind still gets them, even down there. 

The route home is pretty easy, but Jaemin decides on just following his brother to their place, trying to avoid getting distracted by the people around him like he always does. He knows it pisses his brother off when that happens. Jaemin has been learning to be a good younger brother from a really young age and their relationship is good, but Doyoung doesn’t ever seem to relax. 

In an attempt to make their lives easier, Jaemin learned what his brother likes and what he doesn’t like, he learned that his brother’s boyfriend would back Jaemin up every time he would do something bad, and that Kun would also tell Doyoung about it later in the day to avoid any confrontation. 

Jaemin’s life wasn’t as hard as he expected it to be: he would go to school, be a good student, play with his friends only in there, and then go home and be a good kid for his mom. He loves his mom, more than anything else. And he loves his brother too, even if sometimes he is a bit more strict than what Jaemin would like. 

After all, Doyoung took care of them since the day his dad left them — he had to become an adult sooner than any teenage vampire would have liked. And yes, Doyoung was already pretty mature for his age, but he was only fifteen when it happened, he should have stayed in school instead of going out to keep his family safe. 

Jaemin is grateful for the family he has, it is small but the strong bond they have can survive anything in their way — if he has his family by his side, he knows he will be okay. 

When they arrive home, Jaemin runs all the way to the living room to kiss his mom, who is asleep, TV still on. Her mom’s phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him, and he’s scared of checking what’s up. 

Wanting to be brave and wild like his older brother is always on his mind, but he knows he’s not. He’s just eleven and he’s allowed to be scared of grown-up stuff, his mom assured him a few days ago when he saw a murder video by mistake and had to call Doyoung over to turn it off for him. 

Blood has been part of his life for forever, of course, but his troubled mind hasn't let him catch a breath in years. When is he going to start being okay with it, Jaemin wonders everyday, but then he goes to sleep and has a new nightmare that reminds him why he is scared of it in the first place.  _ We all have trauma,  _ Jaemin repeats to himself the words Doyoung said to him one of the many sleepless nights they spent together after The Dream,  _ what happened is not our fault, but we need to learn to live with it.  _ Jaemin is thankful Doyoung has taken part of the ride too — they have been together through thick and thin, side by side, supporting each other every time things get hard.

Looking at his mom resting on the couch paints a smile on Jaemin's face and he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s sleeping so peacefully Jaemin wishes he could just climb the couch and take a nap next to her — he tries to act mature everyday,  _ he's not a kid anymore  _ he tells his mom every time she tries to kiss his cheek, but maybe some days like today when the world seem too big for just an eleven year old, maybe he can curl inside her arms and take a nap there, let her take care of him for a few nights, kiss his forehead every time things inside his head get difficult.

Jaemin makes sure to cover his mom with her blanket and leaves a small peck on her forehead before leaving the room. He loves his mom, but she’s almost never awake when he is. It’s because of her career, Jaemin knows that, but he wishes she could take him out to play from time to time; he has to be okay with his brother taking him instead, and he is. For him, for his -small- family. 

The first time Jaemin talks to the boy with the flowers comes sooner than he expects. If he had a beating heart, Jaemin is sure everyone in that classroom would have heard it about to leave his chest, even the ones sitting all the way to the back.

Everyday is a new challenge for Jaemin, every  _ human _ thing makes him go a little bit more insane, but he decided to attend school many years ago and he is still keeping that promise. He wants to live a normal life, even if his heart no longer beats.

Jaemin is pretty sure his cheeks still can get blushed — he is absolutely sure of it when he enters the math classroom and _ he _ is there. Jaemin knew he was going to be there, he has seen the boy at school, but has never paid enough attention to him until today.

His inexistent rushing heart has to do with the fact that the boy and Jaemin exchange glances as Jaemin crosses the door, the second he gets into that classroom, and the boy smiles at him. He. Smiles. At. Him. He smiles and Jaemin’s small world comes crashing down.

Maybe, just maybe, he should have accepted that talk Doyoung wanted to give him a few months ago. After all, his brother has a boyfriend, he may know how to talk to people, people that are boys, boys who collect flowers under the sun, boys who always raise their hands before talking in class, boys that look exactly like the one looking at him from his seat.

_ What am I supposed to do? _ , Jaemin asks himself without a clear answer, so he just smiles back and the boy seems happy with the reaction and goes back to what looks like his sketchbook — Jaemin doesn't want to look at him for any longer, he doesn't want this boy thinking anything weird, but he remembers seeing him sketching something before class before, so he might be doing the same thing today.

Once he reaches his seat, Jaemin tries catching his breath. He hasn’t experienced this before, but he guesses this is what writers mean when they say their heart skipped a beat. There’s so much stuff Jaemin hasn’t experienced, and he really wants to experience it all. He thinks about asking his brother about it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit how much he wants this boy to like him, to be his friend. 

After all, making friends isn't Jaemin's specialty, and his brother has told him to avoid interacting with that many human kids. He obeyed, he always does.

In the first grade, he met a girl that had the same hair color as him and Jaemin wondered if she was like him, so one morning after recess was over he took her to the bathroom and made her smile at him. He showed her his small fangs,  _ -they didn't even look like fangs,  _ Jaemin knows now- and the girl cried all the way back to their classroom. They sent Jaemin home after that.

In the third grade, he made two friends. Not one, but two. They called themselves the three musketeers after they watched the movie together one night. But after Jaemin wasn't allowed to attend any of his classmates' birthday parties that summer, and after their mothers realized it was always his older brother picking him up from school, they didn't let him see their children again. Doyoung threw Jaemin his own birthday party after that.

And last year, he had given up completely, but a new guy joined the school, and he only attended on the same days Jaemin did —  _ it couldn't be a coincidence _ , Jaemin thought and spent the next month trying to see who he was around. Getting used to his friends leaving was a common activity for him, too used to it by this point he didn't allow himself to get too close. The guy changed schools and Jaemin didn't see him anymore after that.

So right now, even if this boy seemed nice and his smile was as gentle as a spring day, Jaemin couldn't get attached. It's a difficult thing to learn at eleven, but he has learned it way too long ago to keep making the same mistakes over and over again.

For the rest of the day, Jaemin tries not to look over again, scared of the boy catching him looking or catching the boy looking back at him — he isn't sure of which one would be worse. As both things are scary, Jaemin focuses on the new problems their teacher just gave them and ignores everything else until the bell rings. 

“I’m Renjun,” Jaemin hears the boy say, but his gaze is still on the textbook in front of him. He’s not sure the boy - _ Renjun,  _ he corrects himself- is talking to him, but he lifts his head slowly only to find the boy with a hand out, waiting for Jaemin to shake it. 

And Jaemin does, he drops his pencil and lifts his own hand to meet Renjun’s. Jaemin doesn't think about it twice, and that's his first mistake this time. He doesn't care if Renjun can feel how cold his hand is and -if Jaemin had to be a hundred percent honest right now- he doesn't care about anything when this boy is standing in front of him, frown not demanding but welcoming.

But to Jaemin's surprise, Renjun’s hand is as cold as his. And they meet gazes again, Jaemin’s big eyes meeting his new friend’s, eyes so round and a shade of brown so light Jaemin could swear they were made of honey. It would make sense, this looks like the sweetest boy Jaemin has ever interacted with; after interacting with so many of his mom's friends' kids, all sharp and threatening, this smiley boy is nothing but that: bubbly if you catch him in a good day, soul full of the sweetest of things.

“I saw you the other day in the corridor,” Renjun says, finally putting his hand away, “you were wearing this cool looking shirt, but I don’t really know the anime. I wanted to ask you where it was from, I really want to watch it.” 

Jaemin is shocked. The guy he so much wanted to befriend is asking him about his anime shirt, Doyoung's anime shirt.  _ Damn _ , Jaemin mutters to himself — he stole that shirt from Doyoung's closet without asking because he didn't have any other clean clothes. As he doesn't know the anime, panic starts to fill him from his toes all the way to his head; should he tell the truth, should he say something else, he doesn't know, he isn't trained to answer questions coming from nice - _ kinda cute _ \- guys.

And Renjun is still there, waiting for an answer, and Jaemin gives him one.

"It was my brother's," Jaemin replies, putting his pen behind his ear this time, trying to look  _ chill and cool,  _ "I don't really know the anime, but I can ask him about it and tell you tomorrow."

Renjun frowns in response, and Jaemin wishes he could read this kid's mind. Life is not a movie, he can't read people's mind, he tried it when he was young after watching way too many shitty ones but he soon realized it was all fake. And all the other movies were fake too, all the ones that showed confident kids talking to their classmates like it was nothing — Jaemin is about to die in front of this kid, no movie has warned him about it.

"Sound's good," Renjun replies with a smile and Jaemin is glad he can't read his mind either, "see you tomorrow then."

And just like that, Renjun walks out, but Jaemin doesn't take his eyes off him until he can't see him anymore. Renjun is different, not to all the other kids but to him — Renjun's brown hair almost reaches his shoulders and Jaemin wonders if he likes having it long, it looks nice and matches his outfit, black shorts, graphic tee and crocs to match, filled with small animal pins. They look cute, somehow. 

Returning to school after skipping class for a week is not good for Jaemin's plan of going under the radar, but his mom had to leave on a work trip and after letting Doyoung in charge, she made them promise they wouldn't leave the house until she came back. And they did, they always do.

Jaemin spent the entire week thinking about the anime in his shirt, Doyoung's shirt, and decided to wear it to school on the first day back. His brother asked him why, Jaemin gave him a generic answer and they let it slide.

But then he comes back to school and sits in his seat and feels like everyone is looking at him. Well, not everyone, but enough boys for Jaemin to know he is in trouble for some reason, so he texts Doyoung to be there when the bell rings, but he has to survive until then.

Trying to focus on the lecture happening in front of him is a lost cause, Jaemin knows that, and opening his sketchbook sounds way better than the map the teacher is showing to the class. He isn't the best at drawing, Kun is the real artist in the family, but he is practicing, that's why his brother's boyfriend gave him a sketchbook for his birthday. It has his name engraved on the cover, and he can put as much paint and color on each page without worrying about the next one. Jaemin likes that, he doesn't know how to paint but he loves using as many colors as he possibly can — someone once told him colors have meanings and he isn't sure what these are but he still does it. After a while, he started associating colors to the people wearing them and how they made him feel: his mom was red-stained-white, sometimes she was pure white, sometimes the red covered her entirely to the point where Jaemin couldn't notice the white anymore; his brother was green, like the pond they used to play at many years ago, dark and cold but the warmest emerald when the sun was hitting it and they weren't looking; and Kun was green, but a different shade than Doyoung, the shade of the olives he always brought Jaemin when he was young and still could eat them.

But his sketch today is orange, an orange sunset like the ones he sometimes sees through the train's window as he is going home — he makes sure to paint the buildings black and the sun hiding behind them and bathing the city in colorful waves. It still needs more work done when the bell rings, but he'll finish it at home and maybe give it to his mom for her to hang it in her office.

"Why did you disappear last week?," Jaemin hears a kid say, but the thought of raising his head and finding a bunch of his classmates in front of him terrifies him. He knows they are there, he can see their feet, half of them with their shoelaces untied, all standing there.  _ They are just dumb kids,  _ Jaemin repeats Doyoung's words inside his head,  _ just dumb kids  _ and looks at them.

There are five kids, all looking at him like he was the new kid, analyzing him as if they knew some sort of secret of his. They don't, Jaemin is sure, they are just dumb kids.

"Is it because it was sunny outside and you can't be under the sun?," another one accuses him after Jaemin doesn't give an answer to their first question.

They have a point, but they are kids.

"I was sick," he decides on saying, searching for some contentment on his classmates' eyes as he puts all his colored pencils away.

There's none.

"Oh, you were converting then," the smallest kid, even smaller than Renjun -Jaemin notices and chooses to ignore-, affirms, getting one of his dirty fingers very close to Jaemin's face.

"Converting to what?"

When you don't know what to do, you play dumb — that was the biggest lesson Jaemin has ever learnt.

"A vampire."

Jaemin needs to put away his books and he would be out the door, but he is surrounded by curious -and very accusing- kids.

"You have really white skin," the whitest kid of them all tells him, "and you even have fangs. We've seen them before, Jaemin!"

The kids have a point, he does have really pale skin and he does have fangs, but they have not even fully grown out yet.  _ Doyoung would leave in this exact moment,  _ Jaemin thinks and decides on just trying to leave the situation, as there is no actual proof for what they are saying and contradicting them isn't the best choice to make them go away, but they are on his way to the door, and he isn't able to leave his seat.

"I thought you were really stupid before, but right now you're being exceptionally dumb."

Renjun appeared next to him without even hearing him come closer.

"You," Jaemin sees him pointing at the latest kid, "you are as white as paper, are you a vampire too?"

Jaemin is startled, if not completely shocked. Renjun came out of nowhere to defend him and call their classmates stupid in the process? Maybe he likes Renjun, just maybe.

"And about his teeth," Renjun stops to think about it for a second and a smile forms in Jaemin's lips — he doesn't know where his friend is going with it, but he is ready to find out. "None of us have normal teeth, are we all magic creatures?"

The look on their classmates' faces is amazing, they look confused because Renjun is right: they are all pre-teens with awful teeth, and no, none of them are magical creatures.

"I have a snaggletooth," Renjun continues without letting them add anything, "what type of creature am I? maybe a werewolf?"

Jaemin turns his head to Renjun for the first time since he joined the conversation — Renjun is raising his eyebrows, waiting for them to give him a reasonable answer, but all of them know there isn't one. They can either tell Renjun he is right, or look even dumber in front of them; Jaemin isn't sure which one is worse.

"So?," he is pushing them enough, "are you leaving or do you have more stupid things to say to my friend here?"

Luckily for Jaemin, they all go away before Renjun can close his fists — not that it's threatening, but everyone in that classroom knows Renjun wouldn't hesitate on using them if needed.

The blue backpack Jaemin always carries around gets full in a second, and he is ready to leave out the door. There are not many students left by this point, so Jaemin stops and looks at Renjun, who has gone to his seat to pick up his hoodie.

"I don't need you," he hears himself say without thinking it first, "I can protect myself."

Yes, it isn't something nice to say to the person who just saved your ass, but Jaemin doesn't want to feel helpless either. He wants Renjun to think he can act for himself, he could easily kick all their asses if he wanted to, but Jaemin choses peace every time.

"I was just returning your favor, it's okay."

His favor? Jaemin doesn't know what Renjun is talking about, but it seems like this boy does because he walks to Jaemin and turns him around by his shoulders and pushes him to start walking down the hallway.

"You told me about that anime," Renjun says, searching for something inside his backpack as they are walking. "I watched it last week. All of it. It's really good. You should watch it. Definitely."

Maybe it is Renjun's height what makes him that energetic, not enough space for all his energy to expand. Jaemin makes a mental note to avoid saying it out loud after the argument Renjun just had with the other kids.  _ No comments on each other's bodies,  _ Jaemin reminds himself; it is a good lesson, he shouldn't be applying it only this time, he knows.

"Okay," they are reaching the front door and Doyoung is probably waiting for him there, "I will."

Jaemin tries walking faster, maybe Renjun's short legs and the fact that he is still going through his bag will help, but they don't and Renjun is still by his side when they cross the school's front door and Kun meet's Jaemin's gaze.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Jaemin tries saying instead, maybe Renjun would get the memo this way.

"Oh, I go that way too," he replies.

Renjun isn't paying attention to what's happening in front of him: he is walking, checking the book in his hands and hoping for Jaemin to let him know if he is about to run into a wall or someone's mother. But Jaemin is too focused on Kun not seeing he has made a new friend, so he stops midway and Renjun runs right into his back, making Jaemin almost fall on his knees.

"What are you doing?," Kun sounds confused, almost accusatory. He has his arms crossed and is looking at them, scanning them — Jaemin doesn't know if Kun is judging them or just concerned but he doesn't stay to find out. He takes Kun's hands and mutters  _ let's go _ only for him to listen.

Jaemin wants a new friend, a  _ friend,  _ there aren't any old ones anyway. The problem is the price to pay for a new human friend is too high and they can't deal with it right now; he has seen what their clan does to humans that get too close to them, that get too far into their business, and Renjun is way too curious for Jaemin to allow him to come closer.

"Here, have this before you leave," Jaemin hears Renjun say, they were already leaving but Kun gives him  _ the eye _ and Jaemin knows he needs to turn around.

And Renjun is there, hair all messy from their collision moments ago, the light coming through the hall's windows making it look like a shade of brown Jaemin locks inside his head to try to paint it later. He looks at what Renjun is handing to him: a flower, an orange one.

"I know it looks bad," Renjun says chuckling, "I'm still trying to learn how to put them inside a book and make them thin, you know? But this one doesn't look as bad as the first one, god, you should have seen the first ones I did, they were awful, but this one is pretty good, that's why I want to give it to you, maybe you can keep it inside one of your books, it smells great, smell it, yeah."

Jaemin wants to laugh. He looks at Kun through the corner of his eye and looks at Renjun again, still standing in front of them, arms out with the small flower in his hands, offering it to Jaemin.

"It's a peace offer, we won't owe anyone any more favors from now on," he adds a second later when Jaemin is still looking at him, "no matter what we do."

It looks like a good offer and Jaemin takes it, hoping it will mean Renjun won't try to save the day anymore, and that he will start ignoring Jaemin in school again.

"We should hang out sometime," Renjun says instead, the softest smile painted across his face, and Jaemin knows he fucked up. 

The alley is completely dark when they walk into it. Jaemin can hear Kun's steps behind him, and they both let the light at the end of it guide them all the way.

The phone rang that morning and Doyoung picked up. In a house like theirs, the landline phone almost never rings, making everyone anxious as they heard the little bell announcing they had an incoming call. Even more anxious was Jaemin when Doyoung looked at him and muttered  _ it's a friend of yours _ while pointing at the handset.

_ I don't have friends,  _ Jaemin muttered back. It's true, he didn't, but Doyoung didn't buy it and handed him the phone anyway. He knew he was going to be scolded afterwards, but there was no point in arguing when someone was on the other side waiting for Jaemin to pick up.

"Who is it?," Jaemin said, phone way too big the microphone was far off his mouth. Maybe he needed to scream, maybe he didn't.

He hadn't received a call in years, he almost forgot what a voice through the phone sounded like, but the shock on his face wasn't because of it, but because it was Renjun's voice the one talking back at him.

"Hi! Jaemin? It's Renjun, from class, you know? The one that gave you the flower, you know?"

Jaemin needed to learn how to reply faster or Renjun wouldn't stop talking.

"Yeah, it's me," Jaemin looked at Kun and Doyoung, who were trying to act as if they weren't paying attention to what he was doing, "what's up?"

_ Yes, perfect, play it cool. _

"Do you want to maybe..." Renjun hesitated for a moment, "hang out tomorrow?"

_ Oh no _ .

Turns out, Jaemin sucks at saying no, but Kun convinced Doyoung to let them come to the park a few blocks away that night after the sun was out, so now they are walking through this alley and Jaemin is hoping he doesn't embarrass himself tonight.

The walk isn't long, they walked two blocks before getting where they are now and they have to walk only one more when they reach the other exit of this alleyway. It's easy, Jaemin didn't need company to do it but Kun assured him he needed to be there for Jaemin to be allowed to go.

Kun isn't that hard to deal with anyway, he is pretty cool around Jaemin and walks toward some benches once they reach the park. It's good that he leaves them alone, Jaemin thinks, after all Renjun's mom didn't accompany him there and him, a vampire, needed company to walk a few blocks? That was already embarrassing enough, he was already a meter and a half tall, he didn't need supervision. 

"You are here," Renjun smiles at Jaemin when he walks into the small playground.

Sitting inside the jungle gym, Renjun's feet are hanging out. They are old to be playing here, but Jaemin won't be the one telling Renjun this, so he climbs it and joins Renjun inside; he debates how close to Renjun he should sit, but as there's not that much space anyway, only a few centimeters separate him from his friend.  _ His friend,  _ yeah, maybe.

"Isn't this place nice?," Renjun says, putting his hands over the railing in front of them. His hands are hidden under the oversized hoodie and Jaemin hopes Renjun is wearing more than just a shirt under it as the weather has gotten cold over the past few days. He can give Renjun his hoodie if not, Jaemin doesn't mind.

"I saw you the other day," Jaemin's habit of not thinking what he says first will get him in trouble someday, but tonight Renjun just gives him a confused look.

"You saw me?"

"Yeah, you were picking up some flowers and I was inside the train."

Renjun smiles but Jaemin can tell it's not a good smile, it's the same as the smile on his mom's face every time Jaemin mentions his dad. It is going to take him a few more years to understand what a longing smile means, maybe it's good that he is still young.

"You gave me one of them," Jaemin adds under his friend's lack of response.

Jaemin knows when to avoid making questions, he has learnt it the bad way, and his mom told him  _ if people wanna tell you about it, they will _ . So maybe someday he will get to be close enough to Renjun for him to want to tell Jaemin what they were for. Everyone has their secrets anyway, even boring humans like him.

"Did you keep it?"

"I did," Jaemin smiles and Renjun smiles back at him and it's true that his friend has one of his teeth a little crooked. Renjun's smile is pretty, that's the only word Jaemin finds to describe it — it's white, and kind, and it makes his cheeks go up and his eyes almost disappear. He doesn't want his friend catching him looking for too long, but Jaemin would love to keep looking, to lock the picture of Renjun smiling inside his brain to make a sketch later, and burn it right after. "I put it inside one of my favorite books."

That starts a conversation about their favorite books, that then continues about their favorite subject and to Jaemin's surprise Renjun's isn't art but biology. Talking to him is easy, Jaemin doesn't feel like he needs to hide anything because Renjun doesn't ask private questions, he doesn't ask about Jaemin's family or what his parents do for a living or why it's always his brother the one picking up from school or bringing him to the park. In return, Jaemin doesn't ask Renjun why he walked by himself all the way to the park, or why he walks home by himself everyday or why he has never seen anyone by Renjun's side. There's something in the unknown that seems to bring peace to both of them, like they don't need to hide but neither need to be scared.  _ We all have our secrets  _ anyway.

But two hours have gone by and Kun went away because the park didn't look dangerous. And now they are laying down looking at the sky. It's late and they should be sleeping, or at least Renjun should, but he doesn't look like wanting to leave.

"It's going to rain," Renjun says, his head next to Jaemin's, "the sky is almost red, that means it's going to rain."

"I didn't know red meant rain." He didn't.

"Every color means something," Renjun replies, "in the sky and in life."

"That I know," he isn't about to explain his color theory but he does know.

"I think you are orange."

The sudden change in Jaemin's posture, now on his side looking straight at Renjun, brought a strange look on his friend's face.

"Why do you think I'm orange?," he asks instead of admitting that he thought the same color for Renjun, that it was a premeditated thought.

Renjun takes a second to reply, then two seconds, like he is trying to put together a crossword puzzle inside his head. Jaemin has worn a few orange shirts to school before, it's probably that. Turning his head away seems like a good idea, so Jaemin goes back to looking at the sky instead.

"It cleared up," Jaemin says when he sees all the stars looking back at him. There's no red anywhere, the sky looks as good as the night before a sunny summer day.

"I want to show you something," Renjun is holding his hand out to help Jaemin stand up, "come with me."

And in a trice, they are running across the park, Renjun guiding Jaemin while holding his hand through empty zones neither Kun nor Doyoung would let Jaemin visit by himself, but he is with his friend, and they are running way too fast for anything to catch them. Or at least that's what Jaemin hopes.

It doesn't take them long to arrive at their destination — Renjun suddenly stops and makes Jaemin almost fall on top of him. He takes his hand away from Renjun's and fixes his clothes before taking a look at what his friend is staring at: a house. Jaemin has seen this old house before, he has walked past it with his brother a few times, but at this hour and without any adult supervision it looks way scarier than it ever did.

"What are we doing here?," he asks Renjun, who is still standing next to him, without taking a single step towards the house. Maybe it's Renjun's house, Jaemin doesn't know where his friend lives anyway.

"My mom got lost in there," Renjun whispers, as if he is telling Jaemin the biggest secret of his life, and maybe he is.

"Do you want us to find her?" is the only thing that comes to mind, what other reason would Renjun have to bring them there?

"It was so long ago," Renjun tells him, reaching for his hand again.

Jaemin takes a second look at this house — he is terrified of big houses in general, but this one doesn't look unwelcoming, doesn't look like it's going to trick you to get you inside. And it's not like he could go inside anyway.

"I don't think she will be there anymore."

Renjun's grip on Jaemin's hand is strong, like he is trying to hold himself together through it, and maybe it is working. He starts to cross the street and takes Jaemin with him, but he doesn't go for the front door.

"What are we doing?," Jaemin whispers, scared someone inside the house will hear them. They are too close to the windows and the fallen leaves breaking under their feet make way too much noise for the people living there not to notice someone is invading their property.

"I want to show you something," he repeats like a broken record as he opens the gate to the backyard.

There is no way out: if Jaemin tells him to stop, he'll look like a scary cat, if he doesn't they can get in trouble. He decided to let Renjun guide him this time and only this time; his family won't know what they did tonight anyway.

But as soon as they enter the backyard, Jaemin feels his legs tremble. He has been here before, he has been here multiple times before. He can feel the floor under his feet getting wetter by the moment, the smell of wet grass filling Jaemin's lungs and making him keep walking towards the centre of it all.

"Why are we here?," he asks Renjun, tightening the grip around his friend's hand, "what are we doing here?"

But his friend doesn't answer and Jaemin knows just by taking a glance that Renjun is as scared as he is, tears coming down his cheeks, unable to do anything else. Renjun brought him to the graveyard that has been showing up in Jaemin's dream for some reason.

"How..." Jaemin doesn't want to give himself away, telling his friend all his problems right now wont help at all, "how did you know? Why did you bring me here?"

Jaemin drops Renjun's hand and holds him by his shoulders, trying to find an answer in eyes that are looking way past him. They were alone seconds ago, there is no way someone showed up or Jaemin would have heard them.

"They asked me to."

Renjun's cheeks were already covered in tears and Jaemin tries to wipe them away as much as he can with the paws of his sweater.

"Who?," Jaemin asks, "Renjun, what's going on?"

Jaemin is afraid of the answer. He has been here thousands of times, and every time he tries something different and every time he fails.  _ Oh. _

"Oh no, Renjun, we need to leave," Jaemin takes Renjun's hand now and tries going back to the door they walked through moments ago, but Renjun stays.

"My mom got lost in here many years ago," Renjun moves towards the tombs now, walking past a few of them until he finds one with orange flowers laying on top of it, "and I never got her back."

_ Oh no. _

"Renjun, if we don't leave now," Jaemin tries to explain to him, but Renjun is on his knees fixing the flowers after taking one more from the front pocket of his hoodie and adding it to the bunch.  _ We'll die _ , he wants to say, he needs to say it out loud. If they don't leave in time, they'll die, that's how the dream goes, and there's no way to change it.

"We can't leave," Renjun's toneless words make Jaemin shiver. His friend doesn't seem scared at all.

"I know you may have been here a couple times before, but trust me," Jaemin tries to make Renjun stand up, "when I say we need to leave before something else happens."

Renjun stands up, but doesn't move in the direction Jaemin expects him to.

"You know why I said you are orange," he smiles and Jaemin can see something else inside his eyes, this is not his friend, this hasn't been his friend for a while.

"I don't wanna hear it."

Running away alone never works, but maybe today it will, after all today it looks different — Renjun has never been there when he dreamed of this cemetery, it has always been him by himself trying to fight the house asking him to come in, making him feel like he's hearing his dad, using everything it can against him. And the house always wins. Every. Single. Time.

But today, Renjun is there with him.

"My mom took your dad and that's why it took her," Renjun starts explaining, going up the steps that separate them from the back door of the house and opening it, "maybe if I offer his son, it would bring her back to me."

_ Oh no.  _ It's still the same dream. Jaemin doesn't blame Renjun, he has been in Renjun's position way too many times, thinking of sacrificing himself or anyone for that matter in order to bring his dad back.

"It doesn't work like that, Renjun."

It doesn't. The house will take whoever it wants, and it's always Jaemin.

"We need to leave," he says, getting to Renjun to try to bring him down to the yard again, "right now."

But in that moment, in that exact moment, the grass dries under his feet and the house wakes up and takes Renjun in the process. Renjun, not Jaemin, it swallows him in a heartbeat, leaving only an echo of the small scream he let out.

Doyoung holds Jaemin in his arms all the way through the night — the younger hasn't stopped crying in hours, begging his brother and Kun to let him go check on Renjun, to let him go to his house, maybe make a call, but they don't.

And the bell rings and Jaemin's eyes light up expecting his friend to appear through the door but he doesn't. They all see him cross the door instead, they all see Jaemin's dad.

Jaemin definitely knows this is what writers mean when they say their heart skipped a beat.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/_renjaune_)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.me/_renjaune_)


End file.
